An Alternative
by TheBriggsWay
Summary: Edward faces Truth for what he hopes is the final time. Determined to go home with his brother, Edward offers his alchemy in exchange for Alphonse's body and soul. While acceptable, Truth has another suitable trade, an alternative so to speak. Find the man who came back from the dead and bring him to Truth to pay his toll. Do that, and Ed keep his brother and his alchemy. Simple.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, **_**or the **_**Harry Potter **_**series. They belong to their respective owners (Hiromu Arakawa, Bones, and JK Rowling, respectively). I am not receiving any money for this, this is just done to practice my writing and hopefully bring joy to others. Furthermore, I paraphrased some of the lines and scenes from Ed's final confrontation with Truth (from "So, you're here for your brother" to "and you're okay with that"). I hope you enjoy!**

The first thing Ed always noticed is the overwhelming amount of white. It is everywhere- up, down, left, right, forward, backwards, pressing in from all sides. It is suffocating, to say the least, and it always manages to set Edward on edge. Not that he dislikes the color, per se, but something about it here just felt _wrong_. It is too pure a shade; nothing in nature is like that, not even the cleanest of snow in the Briggs Mountain Range. It is unnatural, and so is the place it filled.

"_So, you're here for your brother?_"

Ah. That would be the second thing Edward always noticed.

Ed locks his golden eyes on the hunched figure before him, and it bares its unnerving grin. He shivers as Truth stares him down from its seated position on the floor, but Ed manages to swallow his nerves and force a confident mask upon his face.

"_What is your plan on getting him out of here? The only way he goes home is if you can offer something of equal value._"

Edward takes a steadying breath. This was it, it was now or never. Either he walks out of here with Alphonse or he dies trying. He stands straighter, prouder, and finally acknowledges the massive pressure that has been looming over his shoulder since the moment he arrived here. "Yeah, I've got your offer right here, so let's trade." He hopes his hand isn't shaking as he gestures behind him at the massive doorway he knows is there, praying to any god that would listen that this would work. "This is my alchemy, _my_ Portal of Truth, so I get to decide how its used."

Truth pauses, its mouth slightly agape.

As the silence continues to grow, the smallest seed of hope blossoms in Edward's chest. He wasn't rejected outright, which is more than Ed could have ever wished for, and the longer Truth says nothing, the longer Truth has to debate the benefits of Edward's offer, and the longer that debate continues, the more Truth will realize that it has nothing to lose in this deal.

Then, a chuckle fills the air, and Ed's stomach drops.

No.

No please.

This _had_ to work.

He's out of options.

He's out of time.

Oh my god, he actually _failed_.

Seemingly oblivious to Edward's internal panic, Truth continues to chortle as it questions, "_That's it? That's your big payment? You give up your portal, you will never again perform alchemy, and you're okay with that?_" Edward perks at the last statement, the hope that had been violently extinguished rekindled into a burning inferno.

"Yes. I'd do anything for Alphonse," Edward is quick to respond. _Liar,_ a voice whispers in the back of his mind, and he visibly winces. Alchemy has been a part of his life as long as he can remember. He was very few memories of his childhood outside the realm of the mystical science, and he isn't quite sure how he'll manage without it. Yes, alchemy put him in the position he is currently in, but it has also gotten him out of many deadly situations. Edward subconsciously grips his abdomen, the phantom pain of being impaled flashing through his mind's eye. He grimaces. Yes, there have been _many_ times in which alchemy has saved his life. However- Ed squares his shoulders as he glares at Truth -he'd be willing to do it, he'd be willing to give it up. For Alphonse. Always for Alphonse.

Truth's eyeless gaze is fixed on Edward, for once, not smiling, its face contemplative. "_What if I offer you an alternative?_"

Ed blinks. That would be amazing, in all honesty. Being able to both rescue Alphonse and keep his alchemy? There's no question that that would be his preferred method. However, as Edward knows too well, nothing is ever given for free, and he is all too wary of Truth's games. "An alternative? But the laws of equivalent exchange state-"  
"_I know what they state, little alchemist, for I made them. Do not lecture me on things you do not fully understand._" Edward grits his teeth but manages to bite back his scathing comment against the jab at his height. "_As I was saying, believe it or not, I'm not your enemy. You committed the taboo, and you paid for it, yes, but that does not mean I don't wish for you to get your brother back._"

"Sorry if I have a hard time believing that. What does an alternative have to do with this, though?"  
"_If you'd let me finish, alchemist, you might find out. That being said, I'm having . . . _issues_ in another realm I watch over._"

Edward snorts, crossing his arms across his chest. "Another realm? Now I know you're shitting me."  
"_There is a man there who plays at god. He splits his soul, scattering it across the land, only to raise himself from the dead years later,_" Truth continues, either not noticing or electing to ignore Ed's incredulous tone.

Edward's breath catches in his throat. "He raised himself from the dead?" The ghost of his mother's laugh echoes in his mind, and with it, the guilt of his largest failure to date. Ed jerks his head to the side and shoves the feeling away with some difficulty. _Now is not the time to be wallowing in self-pity, dammit_.  
"_Indeed he did, with help, and no toll. This is what I am offering you- assist in his demise, have him pay the toll he bypassed, and you will return from here both with your brother and your alchemy._"

Ed doesn't immediately answer, weighing the pros and cons of completing this task as opposed to simply just giving up his alchemy. On one hand, he gets to both have his brother back- his top priority -_and_ he gets to keep his alchemy, the only thing that has been with him through it all, that is, outside of Alphonse, of course. Alchemy has many uses, and even if he retires from the State Alchemist program, that doesn't mean that he won't use ever use it again. It just won't be as frequently. On the other hand, he doesn't know how dangerous this assignment could be, nor how long it will take. He refuses to leave Alphonse with Truth for any longer than he needs to, and if Edward can get his brother out of here today, then that is the choice he is going to make. "What about time? I can't leave Al in here for months while I work on a mission for you."

Truth waves a dismissive hand. "_Once your mission is complete, you will return here the exact moment you left. It will be as if you were never gone._"

_Well, there goes my only issue with this. Anything for Alphonse._ "Alright, I'm in."

Truth's grin slinks back across its face in full force. "_Excellent._" Truth then launches itself to its feet and plants itself in front of Ed faster than Roy can snap his ignition gloves. Truth's hand strikes out and latches onto his right forearm in a vice-like grip, its invisible nails painfully digging into the exposed skin. Before Edward can give a shout of protest, blue alchemical light fills the air, the cackle of an ongoing transmutation following soon after.

"What the hell are you doing Truth?"

"_You can thank me for it later._"

"Thank you for what?" Ed demands, struggling unsuccessfully to release his limb from the self-proclaimed deity. No sooner had he asked the question did a prickling sensation work its way down his arm, starting from deep within his shoulder socket and ending at his fingertips. This tingle doesn't fade as expected, and continues to assault the captive appendage. Edward chokes out a cry moments later, the faint prickles evolving into a pain so potent, it would have hurt less to have had somebody repeatedly stab through his arm with various serrated blades. Ed falls to a knee and watches, in alarm, as his arm- the one which Al _sacrificed his very soul for_ -starts to unravel, greedy black hands weaving through the alchemic energy and snatching the limb for their master. In their stead, the reflective glint of his automail prosthetic is starting to form, and, as it takes shape, so does Edward's just fury.

"What happened to equivalent exchange?" he roars.

Truth's grin doesn't falter, its now flesh hand releasing Ed's metal one from its hold. "_Fulfilled; this will help you block attacks that you might otherwise fall victim to. Don't worry, you'll get your arm back once you finish your mission. Consider it a . . . guarantee that you'll return and not remain in the world I sent you to."_

"A _guarantee_? YOU TOOK MY ARM BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO MAKE SURE I WOULD RETURN? I WOULDN'T JUST ABANDON ALPHONSE YOU BASTARD."

Truth takes a step back, its unnaturally white teeth flashing in an almost predatory smile, ignoring Ed's outburst. _"Good luck, Mr. Alchemist. It would be a shame if you died._"

An ominous moan sounds from behind Edward as he senses the massive doors creak open, and he shoots Truth one last hateful scowl, not resisting as he starts to be dragged back through the Portal.

"If you go back on your word, I'll kill you myself. I don't care if you are a so-called god," Edward threatens, the ring of a promise lacing his words.

"_And that would be equivalent, for if that were to happen, your brother would be as good as dead. Do not fear, young alchemist, lies are not one of my strengths,_" Truth says before stepping to the side for the first time in their conversation, allowing Edward get a clear view of what was past the deranged immortal. It takes a moment for his eyes to focus, but once they do, Edward desperately wrestles against the restraints tugging him away. Gold eyes meet gold, and even from where Edward stands he can see the determination on Alphonse's emaciated face.

"I'll be alright, brother," Alphonse reassures, his normally soft, childish voice hardened with resolve, "I believe in you. Besides," he releases a wry smile, "it'll be as if you never left."

Tears prick at Edward's eyes as he continues to struggle because, dammit, it's been a long day, and this is the last time he will see his brother in- potentially, for Edward -a _long_ time. Not only that, but this is the first time his brother has been in his body in years, and Ed just wants to hug him and get some food in him because _nobody should be that skinny he looks like a light breeze will push him over will he be okay while I'm gone I just can't believe he has his body back, he has his body back, hehashisbodybackhehashisbodybackhehashisbodyback_. But Ed doesn't voice any of this though, rather, electing to put up his confident façade once more, releasing a snarky grin.

"You got that right, Al. I'll be back in a flash." Having voiced his pledge (because there is no way in hell Edward can go back on his word with Alphonse), Ed stops fighting, not sure if he would have the strength to complete his mission if Alphonse says anything else. The Gate's tiny hands give one last heave, yanking Edward completely through the doors, and the last thing he sees before his world is enveloped with darkness is his brother's confident smile and Truth's misfigured form.

Edward releases a yell as he is ungracefully tossed through the opposite end of the Portal of Truth, falling through the air for half a second before slamming into the ground. He groans, his head aching, whether from the fall or from the information Truth just crammed into his mind, Ed isn't sure. _Well,_ Ed contemplates as he sits up, a new alchemical formula flitting around his memory, _at least that takes care of how I'll send this guy back to Truth._ Edward's eyes snap open as he surges to his feet in a sudden rush of adrenaline.

_I didn't ask for the bastard's name! _Edward would laugh at his own idiocy if he wasn't so stressed. This is something he would have done prior to his days in the military. However, ever since working with Mustang, Edward has picked up a few strategic mindsets, such as always know your target. Evidently, he didn't absorb enough of Mustang's paranoid tendencies. _Nice going, Elric, you've just made this infinitely harder than it needs to be_. Sighing, Ed brushes off the remaining debris from his landing, the wood shards rattling as they hit the floor.

_If I find some locals, maybe they can tell me who the revived maniac is. Truth only knows where it dumped me, though, so hopefully I'm not too far from some people._ With that, Edward pivots where he stands, only to halt immediately after, balled hands instinctively snapping up towards his face as he takes in the sight before him.

A good dozen people are standing there, all of them armed with . . . _sticks_ (Ed files that away for later analysis) and leveling them at him as if they were some sort of weapon, each face expressing a different emotion, ranging from surprise to curiosity to, in some cases, outright hostility. Every face, though, despite what their initial reactions may be, makes it clear: _Ed is not supposed to be here._

The person closest to Edward, a man with shoulder-length, wavy brown hair, opens his mouth and asks Ed a question. Ed's eyebrows furrow together. He has no idea what the hell the man just said. As Edward comprehends the implication of what this means, he sighs once more before forcing what he hopes is his most innocent smile across his features, releasing his fists and raising his hands in the air in the universal sign of peace.

"What are the odds someone here speaks Amestrian?"

From the blank looks he gets in return, Edward can only assume that these group of people don't understand him either.

Fant_astic_.

**So that's that! I'm not entirely sure if I want to continue this. I have ideas of where this could potentially go, but if nobody is interested, I'll keep this as a one-shot. Either way, reviews are always appreciated! I want to improve my writing as much as possible, and I believe feedback is one of the best ways to do so! Anyway, thanks for reading this, and I hope you have an amazing rest of your day/afternoon/evening! **

**TheBriggsWay**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, **_**or the **_**Harry Potter **_**series. They belong to their respective owners (Hiromu Arakawa, Bones, and JK Rowling, respectively). I am not receiving any money for this, this is just done to practice my writing and hopefully bring joy to others. **

Sirius was bored.

Don't get him wrong, he'd rather find his daily routine mind-numbingly dull than be emotionally starved throughout his waking hours, as was his life back in Azkaban, but, in Sirius' opinion, that doesn't change the fact that being bored _sucks_. Despite this, he tries to look on the bright side of things. For starters, he's actually talking to people again, and considering that he spent most of his time during his prison sentence muttering to himself like a madman, concocting various escape plans so he could get his revenge on Peter, Sirius would consider this a massive improvement. Hell, he can even torment Snivellus on occasion when the man bothered to show up to meetings, the remnants of his prankster ways starting to find themselves back to the surface of Sirius' personality. Another positive is that he always has food on the table and a roof over his head (though, to be fair, he would chop off his left ear if it meant he could live literally anywhere else). Molly made it her mission to see him put on some weight- _Honestly, did they even feed you while you were in there?_ -and Sirius is touched by her concern. Baring these in mind, Sirius doesn't believe he has any room to complain.

That doesn't mean he doesn't do it anyway.

Now, Sirius loves the Order; he wants to see Voldemort taken down just as badly as the next guy, even more so if one considers what he has lost to this war. When Dumbledore approached Sirius, asking him if he was willing to donate Grimmauld Place to be used as the Order's headquarters, Sirius was ecstatic. He felt like he was contributing to society again, as opposed to hiding from it, and quickly agreed. He does not regret that decision- not even for a moment -but playing host to the Order of the Phoenix often reminds him how _lonely_ he is. Sure, it's great when he interacts with people he hasn't seen in years, or when he notices someone new sitting down at the dinner table, but the fact of the matter is, all of the energy that bounces around the house during Order meetings dissipates as soon as they end, everybody leaving Grimmauld Place to complete their assigned duties. That is, except for Sirius.

And he hates it.

He remembers what it used to be like for him, back in the old days of the Order of the Phoenix. Some would even argue calling it the golden days. He and James would have a new assignment almost every other night. It would drive Lily insane with worry, but the two of them always managed to return without injury, barring the occasional cut or bruise. They were young and naive about the world, but Sirius can't deny that they were fighting for a just cause. They saw what was happening, and they wanted to change the world for the better. And Sirius did, he _did_ change the world- during that time, Sirius managed to foil many sinister plots and toss many captured Death Eaters into the cells they deserve, and _that's_ the life he longs for. Sirius misses actively being in the field and fighting for the Light. Call him an adrenaline junkie, but he always loved the thrill that coursed through his veins during battle and the feel of his erratic heartbeats pounding against his chest as he snuck around under a lended Invisibility Cloak. Now, Sirius considers himself little more than an over-glorified house-sitter. Who knew the wings of freedom could feel so much like the chains of imprisonment.

An irritated _squawk_ pierces the air, jolting Sirius out of his reverie. Buckbeak shoots Sirius a glare, pointedly flexing his extended wing. Sirius chuckles and resumes cleaning.

"Sorry, Buckbeak, got a lot on my mind."

Buckbeak shuffles his weight but doesn't voice another objection, seemingly content now that Sirius has continued to do his job. With the hippogriff's attention now off of him, Sirius' smile slips from his face, and he sighs. He monotonously brushes Buckbeak, his gaze losing focus with each passing stroke.

_I just wish I could _do _something, even something simple. Like visit my godson_. Sirius growls at the thought, brushing Buckbeak with a little more force than necessary. _I get it, I'm a "wanted criminal", so I "can't go outside", but Harry can't stay with the Dursleys anymore. Lily and James would be rolling in their graves if they knew. Screw the blood wards for all I care, Harry just needs. To. Get. Out. Of. THERE._

The brush tumbles from his grip with a _clutter_, his fists shaking, his head throbbing. Sirius stands there, panting in an otherwise silent room as he struggles to control his sudden bout of anger. This is not the first time he has been pissed off about Harry's situation, and it certainly won't be the last. However, as his breathing calms and he stops seeing red, another sigh escapes Sirius' lips, and he runs a hand down his face, a heavy weight settling in the pit of his stomach. Buckbeak glances back at Sirius, a curious gleam in his eye. Sirius absentmindedly pats the hippogriff as he puts away the grooming supplies, snatching a dead rat from a hidden pile and tossing it to Buckbeak to ward off his piercing stare.

_Who am I kidding, I can barely take care of myself. I just want what's best for Harry_. Sirius creaks open the door to Buckbeak's room, the light from the hallway pooling at his feet. _What's best for Harry_. With a shake of his head, trying in vain to dispel the sour mood that has settled upon him, Sirius closes the door behind him and steps into the hallway.

And directly into his cousin, who has her fist raised to the door as if she was about to knock. She gasps, and Sirius snags her as she stumbles backwards, halting her descent to the floor. _Phew, almost set off dear-old-mother's painting_.

Tonks flashes a grin. "Wotcher, Sirius, I was just about to get you- the meeting's about to start."

Sirius forces a smile on his face, grandly gesturing towards the staircase she just ascended from. "Well then, after you."

Tonks rolls her eyes, not deigning to answer, but makes her way down the stairs anyway. Sirius follows close behind, and the pair make light conversation as they traverse about caring for hippogriffs and whether or not Tonks has morphed her nose into a beak before. It turns out she hasn't- her go-to nose change has always been a pig's snout -but she promises to try it soon. Tonks then proceeds to ramble on about a mission where she was partnered up with Severus. Sirius lets out a bark of laughter at the face she makes when describing her and Snape's conversations outside of the assignment.

"I thought he was bad enough when he was a teacher," Tonks complains, "but actually _working_ with him is unbearable! I can't believe you actually had to put up with him while you were at school- it must have been a nightmare."

By the time the two of them reach the kitchen, Sirius is in considerably lighter spirits than when he was left alone to his thoughts, a slight spring back in his step. Leave it to his cousin to find a way to lift his dour mood. In fact, his merriment doesn't even sour when he glances down the dining table and noticies Snape sitting at the far end, his dislike for the man tainted by his cousin's recent stories. Instead, he merely shoots Snape a shit-eating grin and settles himself on the opposite end next to Lupin. Snape just quirks an eyebrow, but his face contorts as though he had smelt something particularly foul, and Sirius takes that as a win on his part.

There is a sharp rapping on the hardwood table as a gruff voice says over the clamor of conversation, "Order, order, I call this meeting to order."

"Oh, we're treating meetings like a muggle courtroom now?" Arthur Weasley asks, a giddy gleam in his eye as the room quiets, "If so, I have some _marvelous_ suggestions on how to-"

"No, Arthur, Moody was just getting our attention," Molly Weasley sighs, cutting off her husband from the word-vomit he was surely about to prattle on about.

Arthur clamps his mouth shut and gives Moody a sheepish grin. "My apologies, carry on."

Moody grunts. "As I was saying, this meeting has started. Does anybody have anything they want to talk about?" Moody's artificial eye flicks around the room at dizzying speeds, not focusing on one person or object for more than a second before swiveling somewhere else.

Sirius, emboldened by his chipper disposition, straightens in his chair. "Actually, yeah, now that you mention it, I do have something I want to talk about."

Sirius senses Lupin stiffen beside him as the atmosphere of the room thickens, everyone awkwardly glancing in different directions, none of them meeting Sirius' eye.

Lupin clears his throat. "Sirius, this has already been discussed. Now is hardly the time-"

"Oh no, this is the perfect time," Sirius continues, a broad smile on his face as he leans back in his chair as if he has no care in the world, "In fact, Mad-Eye practically invited me to speak."

"Yes, about things that will help the order, not how Harry shouldn't be living with his relatives," Moody clarifies, his tone obviously telling Sirius to dropit. Good thing Sirius has never been one for rules.

Sirius continues to smile, but his eyes turn dark. "Are you suggesting that the safety of my godson isn't a priority?"

"It is a priority, but he is perfectly safe where he's at."

Sirius chuckles in response, no humor in the sound. "You mean to tell me that leaving Harry with his abusive relatives means that he is perfectly safe?"

Moody glares down the table at Sirius, undeterred. "What I mean is that, though his circumstances are . . . undesirable, that is the safest place for him to be."

"Oh yeah, because living in the place where they put _bars_ on his windows is the perfect place to live."

"There haven't been bars there since the summer after his first year- they know to leave him alone now!"

Sirius slams his fists on the table, surging to his feat. "That's not the point, dammit! Harry deserves to be surrounded by people he _loves_ and who love him back. Not just tossed aside like yesterday's garbage until we need him!"

An ear-splitting _cackle_ fills the air, Sirius' next words lost in the sudden sound. The room's occupants immediately fall silent, whipping out their wands as the foreign noise grows louder, blue streaks of energy haphazardly striking around the room.

_What the hell?_ Sirius whirls in place, shifting his stance so his body is shielding Lupin's from whatever this strange attack is. Blue lightning continues to fill the room, originating from a point on the ceiling in the connected family-living area. The _cackle_ grows into a shrieking roar, and Sirius frantically protects his ears in an effort to lessen the piercing sound.

"Severus, you'd better tell me what the bloody hell is going on!" Moody demands, his voice barely audible over the lightning's reaction.

"I have absolutely no idea; this isn't the work of the Dark Lord," Snape replies stiffly. Sirius normally would have laughed at Snape's indignant tone if he wasn't so bloody terrified. Sirius sneaks a quick glance back at his cousin to find that her bubblegum pink hair is now stark white. Sirius grimaces. _Shit, she's panicking_.

A grumbling moan emits from the blue energy. Sirius' head immediately snaps toward the sound, afraid of what it might mean, and he watches in shock as a set of two massive doors start to materialize parallel to the lightning-producing ceiling. His jaw drops as details take shape- grey stone, an engraved, tree-like design, words he can't even begin to decipher -and he hesitantly levels his wand at it. _What spell would even help in this situation? I have no idea what the hell is even going on_. Apparently he's not the only one to think this way because from the corner of his eye, Sirius notices everybody doing the same: All wands are raised, but no spells are cast.

It is in this moment that Sirius realizes that the energy is gone, and, with it, the crippling screech of the ongoing reaction. _Alright, one problem apparently solved._ That just leaves the floating doorway. The very ominous, floating doorway. The very ominous, radiates-death-and-what-possibly-lies-in-the-afterlife, floating doorway. Sirius blanches at the sight, the dog-instinct inside screaming at him to tuck tail and get out of there as fast as he can, never to return. Sirius licks his lips, and, determining from Lupin's tight grip on the back of his shirt, its safe to say that Lupin is feeling the same way too.

The silence that fills the air is deafening.

And then, the softest of _creaks_.

Sirius' heart-rate immediately spikes, and he takes in a sharp breath. Lupin's grip on his shirt tightens as his other arm remains raised, never wavering, locked on to the now-opening set of doors. Other people shift behind Sirius, scraping chairs against the floor and silverware across plates, but he heeds them no mind. His gaze remains fixated on the doorway, fidgeting from foot to foot, trying to dispel his nervous energy. Sirius freezes in place, though, when yet another sound emanates from the doorway.

_Oh you've gotta be shitting me._

A yell. Somebody is _yelling_ from the other side of the doors. And getting closer too, if the increase in volume is anything to go by. The doors open, revealing a blindingly-white landscape.

"_Please_ tell me I'm hallucinating," Sirius begs.

"What the hell would you be hallucinating about? This is real," Mad-Eye says.

"What would I be hallucinating about? Hm, maybe it was the blue lightning that came out of nowhere, the giant doors that came out of nowhere, or, oh yeah, _the bloody shouting that is coming out of nowhere_."

"Technically it's coming from the doorway."

"Not helping, Tonks."

"Everybody be quiet," Lupin hisses.

Sirius immediately bites his tongue, silencing his hysterical comeback. He knows that tone, and he also knows it means that he should _not_ cross Lupin right now. Hopefully whoever is on the other side of that doorway can pick up on that too, for their sake.

_Speaking of, by the sounds of things, shouldn't they be arriving right about-_

A blur of gold and black is all the warning the Order gets before the shouting person is thrust through the open doors and straight into the Black Family living room table, splintering it on impact.

_-now._

While the rest of the people assembled jolt at the sudden movement, Sirius merely blinks, staring as the figure on the floor sits up, back to the Order. Sirius' eyebrows raise. Based on the intensity of the yell, Sirius was expecting someone taller, not someone so . . . relatively small.

The person rushes to his feet, the doorway above dissolving into thin air, as if it was never there in the first place, and a moment passes before the figure starts brushing off bits of wood that clung to his clothing, turning around as he is doing so, fully facing the Order. Sirius could pinpoint the exact moment the intruder noticed their presence, eyes widening a fraction before mismatched fists fly up to guard his face, his feet shifting ever-so-slightly into a fighting stance.

Sirius shivers at the intensity of the kid's calculating gaze. Sirius knows that look- he's seen it every time he looks in the mirror -and _no_ kid should be able to pull that off when he looks young enough to still be studying at Hogwarts. Intensity aside, though, Sirius pauses, finally comprehending what color the teen's eyes are, and Sirius' posture relaxes.

_Gold like Moony. Poor kid's been through a lot._

Sirius tries his best to sound soothing as he says, "Blimey, mate, where the hell did you come from?" Kingsley Shacklebolt shoots Sirius a sideways glance, wand still trained on the intruder, clearly wondering if Sirius has gone completely mental.

A beat passes before the trespasser's glare flashes with annoyance, though, Sirius senses, it's not directed at him. Hopefully. Something about this kid gives him the creeps, no matter how short he is.

Then, the teen simply sighs, raising his arms into the air,- _holy shit he has a metal limb_ -and offers the Order a strained smile. He speaks, the lift at the end of his phrase suggesting that he asked a question. _Suggesting_ because, well, though Sirius might not consider himself to be proficient in other languages, he can generally identify what language is being spoken. Generally. In this case, he has no clue at all.

Before Sirius has the chance to ask what he was supposed to do now, Shacklebolt steps forward, face unreadable.

"Incarcerous," he says, coils of rope jumping from the tip of his wand and securing themselves around the intruder. The teen gives a shout and crashes to the ground, body wrapped in rope, seemingly hindering him motionless.

Sirius immediately whips around to face Shacklebolt. "What the hell was that for?"

Shacklebolt stares at him, the look in his eye expressing that, yes, he believes Sirius has indeed gone crazy. Sirius huffs and rushes to the teen's side, helping him get to his feet. Crazy person or not, this kid hasn't technically done anything wrong yet. Besides trespassing, that is. Trespassing into a secret hideout that nobody should be able to find unless told by an outside source. But Sirius has done worse than that within his first four years of Hogwarts. Granted, they weren't at war at the time and people weren't suspicious of every person they met, but it's the same basic principle. This kid looks like he's no older than Harry and doesn't deserve the Death Eater treatment.

Unless of course he is one, to which Sirius will say "my bad". However, innocent until proven guilty and all that. That lack of protocol is what wound Sirius up in Azkaban, and he has no intention of putting a kid through it too.

At this point, both Moody and Snape have made their way to the front of the group and have planted themselves before Sirius and the teen. The kid tenses, the heat in his glower suggesting that, though he may be tied up, he will finish them if provoked further. Moody remains unfazed, however, and roughly pulls the rope down on the teen's left arm.

He grunts. "No Mark. You know him, Severus?"  
"He's not familiar. That doesn't mean he doesn't follow the Dark Lord, though."

"Oh for pity's sake, he's just a child!" Molly cries, shoving her way between Moody and the intruder, placing her body so the teen can hide behind it, if need be. Not that he needs it. The kid looks as scared as Moody as he is afraid of the carpet he's standing on. That is to say, not at all.

"Just because he's a kid doesn't mean he's innocent in all of this. You saw what happened before he showed up- just try and tell me that isn't something dark."

Molly sticks her hands on her hips and draws herself to her full height. A surge of glee courses through Sirius' system. Having been on the receiving end of that before, he knows Molly is about to verbally tear the pair to shreds.

_Oh they're in trouble now_.

"You mean to tell me," Molly starts, "that Voldemort, the man who thinks blood purity is all that matters in wizarding society, hired a _werewolf teenager_ to spy on us? Because I dare say, having the boy practically announce his coming with floating doors and blue lightning was a _mar_velous idea on his part then, wouldn't you say?"

Moody growls. "We don't know his plan, Molly. He could just be using the kid to get to us."

"Well there is a very easy solution to that problem."

Sirius jumps at Snape's voice, half-forgotten that the man was there, and immediately makes a mad grab for the kid. Unfortunately, Snape has already shoved past a screeching Molly and has the teen's head in a vice-like grip. The teen, who was initially struggling to get his head free, has fallen still, all color draining from his face. Their gazes are locked, and Snape isn't blinking. Then, the boy starts to tremble. This only lasts for a couple seconds before the kid releases a shout and headbuts Severus, thus breaking whatever connection Snape had with him.  
Sirius yanks the teen away as far as he can in this cramped room as he warily watches Snape for a reaction. He rubs circles on the panting teen's back, the tattered dark grey tank-top sticking to the kid where sweat has soaked through.

_Shit, what the hell did they see?_

"Call Dumbledore."

The room instantly falls quiet at Snape's request, and Sirius halts, his gut clenching at the man's words.

_Don't tell me . . ._

Lupin grasps Snape's arm and helps Snape shakily gets to his feet, the Potions Master glaring at the shaken child with all of his worth.

"Call Dumbledore," Snape repeats. The Order glances among themselves, suddenly unsure. They expected it might be bad, yeah, but this . . . they've never seen Snape like this before.

"Severus, what did you-"

"I will not repeat myself again," Snape snaps, his voice echoing through the room, "Get. Dumbledore."

Without a second to waste, Shacklebolt rushes out of the room. The front door creaks open, then slams shut not a moment later. The room falls back into awkward silence.

Lupin clears his throat. "What should we do with the boy?"

Snape continues to glower at the child, who has now recovered from whatever he saw when his mind was invaded, and glares right back.

"Give him a room, but don't untie him. Lock him in there, and don't let him out until Dumbledore returns to integrate the boy. If you'll excuse me, I have a pensive to visit." With a flourish of his robe, Snape stalks out of the room, refusing to look at anyone as he passes.

The moment Snape leaves, the teen next to Sirius relaxes where he stands. Though he still periodically scans the room, it seems he trusts Snape about as far as he can throw him. Not that Sirius can blame him- what Snape did was invasive and morally grey. To make matters worse, from what Sirius can tell, the teen just re-lived a pretty horrid nightmare, and, coming from a man who spent the last decade of his life surrounded by dementors, there aren't many people Sirius would wish that upon.

That being said, Sirius isn't surprised when he finds himself volunteering to take the teen to where he will be staying until Dumbledore arrives. Apparently after basically scaring Severous off, not many people want to do the honors themselves. Sirius snorts. Some Gryffindors they turned out to be. Except Tonks. Hufflepuffs get an exception.

Sirius guides the teen through the house,- they freed his legs because, honestly, what are the odds the kid will get away with almost the entire Order here? - up the stairs in the foyer (where the boy spent roughly half a second staring gobsmacked at his mother's portrait- _You're bringing absolute filth into my house! _-before shaking his head and continuing to follow Sirius), and into his assigned room.

Sirius watches as the teen's gaze immediately sweeps the room, hesitating for the briefest moment on the window on the far wall, before settling back on Sirius. He offers an innocent smile, lifting his tied-up arms towards Sirius, his eyes begging for him to be released.

Sirius gives him a regretful smile in return. "Sorry, can't let you go. I've got orders."

Though he knows the teen doesn't understand what he's saying, apparently Sirius got the point across, for the teen's smile instantly falls into a scowl, those child-like eyes hardening into the eyes of a veteran. Sirius tries not to let that bother him as he laughs, trying to ease the tension.

"Nice try, though. Probably would have worked if Molly brought you here, but you got stuck with me."

As the teen grumbles, finally entering the room, Sirius glances around, making sure there is nothing in here that could potentially help the kid escape. Finding none, he shrugs, waving half-heartedly.

"Alright, see yah kid. I'll be back with dinner in an hour."

"Edward."

"Huh?" Sirius stops his exit, staring at the kid like he grew a second head, "What did you say?"

The teen rolls his eyes, jerking his head towards himself. "Edward. Ed-ward."

Sirius' eyebrows furrow together for a moment before his face clears, a grin splitting across his features. "Well then, nice to meet you Edward. M'name's Sirius."

The teen- _Edward, his name is Edward_ -gives Sirius a deadpan look. Sirius chuckles sheepishly.

"Sirius."

"Sirius," Edward repeats, testing the name in his mouth.

"You got it." Sirius hesitates at the doorway. "I don't think you're a bad kid. You might be freaky and you might have scared Severus, but you don't seem evil to me. Trust me-" Sirius glares around the room. "-I've met my fair share of it. I hope talking to Dumbledore clears your name."

Not waiting for a response, Sirius closes the door behind him. He sighs. This is going to be a _long_ night.

**Edit: I COMPLETELY FORGOT TO THANK EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED LAST CHAPTER! YOUR KIND WORDS MEAN SO MUCH TO ME, THEY LITERALLY ARE WHAT SPURRED ME TO WRITE THIS CHAPTER. THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR YOUR REVIEWS THEY BRIGHTEN MY DAY. So I guess you guys wanted this to continue, so here it is! Sorry this took so long, this chapter did **_**not**_** want to be written. Remember, reviews are always appreciated! I want to improve my writing as much as possible, and I believe feedback is one of the best ways to do so! Anyway, thanks for reading this, and I hope you have an amazing rest of your day/afternoon/evening! (Also, I read the werewolf-Ed idea from a different fanfic and really, but I can't remember the author or story, so if anybody knows who did it first, let me know and I'll ask their permission to keep it in the story. If they don't want me to, obviously I'll take it out. Thank you so much for your help!)**

**TheBriggsWay**


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